When We Have Hope
by TrekkieL
Summary: One shot. When John's plane crashes at the airport, Sherlock , who is trying to understand his feelings for John, panics and races to the scene, believing John to be dead, but then there is Hope. Summery is rubbish! The story is much better, i promise. Please read and review! Johnlock, Worried!Sherlock One-shot, Fluff and mush. Kiss included ;)


**Hey guys! I am a hurt/comfort freak. There, I said it. In this fic, Sherlock and John are boyfriends. I don't own anything. Enjoy!**

Sherlock found he was feeling really excited when he woke up that morning, and he knew why. John had gone to visit a family member in Canada 3 days ago and he was coming back today.

Sherlock had offered to meet him at London city airport when he came back, but John had said something about 'not wasting money making two trips instead of one'. Sherlock had tried to explain that Mycroft could do something, but John had insisted he was fine by himself. Sherlock lost his one excuse to see John sooner.

John's plane was due back within the next 45 minutes, so Sherlock decided to tidy the flat for when John arrived. He hummed to himself randomly as he moved any test tubes and flasks into a cardboard box and moved the box into his and John's room, shoving it under the bed.

He then proceeded to remove any un-needed body parts from the fridge and moved the rest of it to one side of the fridge. After half an hour of tidying, as he was sorting through his bottles of chemicals, his phone vibrated in his back pocket.

**New message: John Watson**

**Hey love. Arriving soon. Missed you loads. I love you so much – JW**

Sherlock smiled at the name 'love' and the 'I love you' but frowned at the shortened sentences. He deduced John was in a rush, but why? Sherlock shrugged and sat on the couch to watch the news, but not before sending a text back.

**Compose message: John Watson**

**I love you too, love. I deduced you were in a hurry from the shortened texts. What's going on? I love you and I missed you more. – SH **

He sent the text and put the news on, but they only spoke about the government. This bored Sherlock and John hadn't replied to his text, so he got up to make tea. Just as the kettle boiled, a news line caught his attention.

_… plane crashed just now on the runway at London city airport…_

Sherlock's heart could have stopped. He must have heard that wrong. Sherlock ran back round to the sofa and stood over the TV, his gazed fixed on the screen. Along the bottom in bold letters, read the words: _London city plane crash._

No. it couldn't have been John's plane. John couldn't have been on that plane. There were thousands of planes in the Sky every day, but everything he thought about just proved more and more that this was, in fact, John's plane.

First, the timing. John's plane was due back about now, give or take 5 minutes. Second thing, the airport. John was coming back to _this _airport. He had said so before he had left. Third thing, the text. It was rushed. John must have known the plane was going down because he had rushed when he sent his text with the 'I love you so much' at the end. Also, John hadn't replied to the text.

Sherlock wasted no time running out the flat and running in the direction of London city airport, shooting 3 bullets in the air and calling Lestrade.

"Greg. On my way to London city airport. Pick me up. I don't know where I'll be. I'm running. I'll need blue lights." And he hung up. Less than 30 second later, the police sirens were heard and Sherlock jumped into the car.

"Blue lights, as fast as possible. NOW!" Sherlock ended up shouting and Lestrade couldn't get a word in, so he drove the car as fast as he could, taking as many shortcuts as Sherlock yelled at him. they made it there in under 5 minutes. Sherlock literally fell out the car in his hurry. Lestrade followed behind.

Sherlock could see the full left hand side of the plane. It was split down the middle and the tail had come off. The left wing and engine poured out smoke and people were throwing themselves out the doors. He heard a few screams of 'someone help!', 'it's gonna explode!' and then he heard a woman as she was shoved out the plane. 'My baby!' Sherlock ran over to the woman while Lestrade went to get witnesses for the crash.

"Have you seen a man? Blond hair? Blue eyes? Probably wearing a jumper?" he asked without pausing for breath. The woman nodded.

"He sat a few rows back, helped me with my cases. But there were dead people in various seats after we crashed. Please, my baby's still on the plane!" she cried through tears and Sherlock felt guilty. Any friend of John's was usually an innocent. He awkwardly gave the woman a hug, telling her it would be alright, but knew he was saying that to reassure himself more than anything, and looked back at the plane.

"There's still someone on the plane!" a man shouted. Everyone turned to look at the plane. "I saw a shadow in the window. Someone's alive in there!" Sherlock felt hope rise, but it fell again when the left engine exploded. It was a small burst of fire, but Sherlock deduced it would happen again and be bigger the next time. Then, a miracle happened.

There was a figure at the door. The person was holding something in his arms. He couldn't make it out, but it looked like a pile of blankets. They appeared to be preparing to jump. The figure leapt from the plane just as the engine blew. As Sherlock predicted, the explosion was massive. Everyone watched the figure as he landed on the ground with a forward roll before running towards Sherlock and the woman. When they had reached them, Sherlock could have cried. Stood in front of him was John Hamish Watson.

"My baby!" the woman suddenly cried out and took the bundle of blankets from the soldier's arms and cuddled it close to her chest. Sherlock gave up trying to compose himself.

"My baby!" he shouted and pulled John close to his chest. John chuckled at Sherlock's childish antics and Sherlock laughed in relief more than anything. John shifted in Sherlock's arms so he was now turned around facing the woman and her child, while Sherlock rested his chin on John's head with his arms around John's waist. John crossed his arms over and held Sherlock's hands, rubbing circles on the back of Sherlock's hands.

"Thank you so much! I owe you everything!" the woman smiled at John.

"Don't worry about it. She saved me." John smiled at the baby girl. By now, a crowd had appeared around them, including Lestrade.

"What do you mean?" the woman asked.

"It was her screaming and crying that brought me out of consciousness. I was knocked out in my seat. The engine was just outside my window and I managed to get out the way of the first explosion. It was all thanks to your daughter. I owe her my life. May i ask her name?"

"Her name is Hope, and you gave her life." The woman reminded him. "What's your name, young man? I'm going to make you famous for this."

"John Hamish Watson. Already famous." John winked at her.

"John Watson? The Blogger? I'm a huge fan of your adventures!" she smiled and then turned to Sherlock. "Sherlock Holmes, I presume? I didn't realise you two were an item." She giggled. It was hard to believe she had been in tears a few moments before.

"Oh god… The crowd. People are _definitely _going to talk, Sherlock." John looked up at Sherlock. Sherlock grinned.

"Then let them talk." He leaned closer to John and their lips met. The crowd cheered as both Sherlock and John lent into the kiss. Lestrade yelled "About time you two!" and someone in the crowd wolf-whistled. After a few seconds, they pulled away and pressed their foreheads together, both breathing heavily.

"That was amazing." John smiled. Sherlock pulled his blogger closer to him.

"Yes, it was, and so are you, my brave soldier." He replied before leading John to police car.

* * *

_The next day, the main articles were:_

_Holmes and John a couple_

_Ex-Soldier John Watson Saves Child_

_Plane Crash Caused By Birds_

John and Sherlock were snuggling together on the couch watching nothing-of-interest on the TV. John was leaning his back on the arm of the sofa with Sherlock lying on top of him with his head resting on John's chest, listening to John's heartbeat. John had the laptop on Sherlock's back as he typed up the plane crash.

"John?" Sherlock mumbled. John stopped typing and looked at Sherlock.

"Yes love?"

"That baby, Hope, she saved your life… and possibly mine." John sat up a bit, careful not to hurt Sherlock, and put the laptop on the ground. He wrapped an arm around Sherlock and ran the other hand through Sherlock's curly hair.

"What do you mean?" John asked confused.

"You are my life, John."

"And you are mine, Sherlock." John replied, kissing his forehead. "I love you."

"I love you too."

* * *

**Please review and tell me what you thought! :D Also, the baby is called Hope as a little thing I thought was clever. Hope saved John, and Sherlock.**


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